The Catalyst
by Ocean's Timbre
Summary: Scenes from "Wild Magic" from Numair's point of view.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Why hello _Immortals_ fandom! First off, I just wanted to say thanks for being curious and clicking on my story! I hope that I can do Tammy's characters justice! I'm not new to Fanfiction; I've been reading the site for years, including this archive and the _The Song of the Lioness_ one. That being said, I am, however, a relatively new writer. Secondly, the _Immortals_ series are easily four of my favorite books. I have been re-reading them since sixth grade. I just love Daine and Numair! Thirdly, this is just some scenes from _Wild Magic_ from Numair's point of view. I expect to write three other stories, one for each book. I know this has been done before, but it's something I really wanted to write, and put my own creative spin on. Expect only a little dialogue, a lot of introspection, and some fluffiness. You are also probably wondering why I titled this story _The Catalyst_, and here's why. _Wild Magic_ is where Numair and Daine first meet and establish their friendship, and from the beginning, Dain causes Numair's life to change drastically (whether he knows it or not!) and turns it upside down. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the story, and I hope to write more for the fandom. Reviews are very much appreciated. _

_Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own The Immortals Series. All dialogue, places, and characters you see belong to the mighty Tamora Pierce._

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_**The Catalyst**_

**Chapter 1: Hawk**

Numair was falling. Or was it flying? He tried to use his large black wings to stay aloft, a challenging prospect considering he couldn't tell the difference between up and down at the moment. Colors and sounds blended together, creating a blaring cacophony in his ears and blinding his eyes. His head was pounding and his stomach was nauseous, making him feel hollow. Pain, anger, and fear put his mind in a foggy haze. He couldn't think straight, and the world was spinning. Or was he the one spinning? From somewhere, Numair heard the cackling laughter of his assailants. Fear spiking through him again, he tried to fly faster, his injured wing burning. Suddenly, a clear and pealing whistle broke through the air, _familiar_. It was as if someone had poured cold water all over Numair, giving him a moment's clarity. Knowing that the stormwings tailing him were getting ever so closer, Numair took a chance and _dove_ in the direction of the whistle.

He squawked in pain and surprise as he crashed through leaves and branches, breaking his already broken wing further. The ground growing ever nearer, Numair got himself together enough to avoid a crushing death and make an exhausted and clumsy landing. Swaying on his taloned feet for a moment, a hollow log caught Numair's eye. Hopping and waddling towards it, Numair did not take time to notice the squishy and foul smelling ground that he was walking on. Unbeknownst to him, he was in a marsh. However, shelter was the only thing on his mind. Once safely inside the log, Numair collapsed against its side, panting, shivering, and shaking. He thought that taking hawk shape would lessen the pain and the drugs, but the sensations only intensified. Unwillingly, he let the pain and chaos swamp him again, unable to hold it back. Voices, not his own, whispered nonsense in the back of his mind. Reds and blacks and greens swirled across his vision, obscuring it. His mind was covered in a heavy fog. Black shadows and figures, slightly resembling stormwings, hovered at the edges of his eyesight, mocking him. He thought he could hear their maniacal laughter in his sensitive ears. He cried out in agony, his squawk tearing at his throat. _Mithros, Mynoss, and Shakith, let the Black god take me now!_ _Anything would be better than this pained chaos!_

As if the gods were answering his prayers, Numair heard something that cut through the chaos within him like a knife. It was a voice, an _oh_ so heavenly and divine voice. It was clear and light and soothing. Using what strength he had left, Numair rose shakily to his scaled feet and hobbled to the log's opening. There, before him, stood a young, albeit gigantic, girl. She walked into the clearing, parting the fog in his mind. Her skin shone brighter than the sun, tendrils of bronze flame radiating out from her body. But the brightness did not seem to hurt Numair's eyes. On the contrary, her light caused all the impending chaos and shadows to leech away. The girl, bending down and reaching a large hand out to him, had all the beauty of a goddess or demigoddess.

_Am I dead?_ Wondered Numair as he starred at the girl. _No, I cannot be. I hurt too much to be in the Black god's realm_. Shaking him from his muddled thoughts, the girl's honey-toned voice rang in his ears again, saying something. Ah, how he would do anything for that voice! If only for her to speak another word to him, he would jump off a cliff if she asked! Still staring at the girl, Numair felt the animal instinctiveness in him that was the hawk yearn to please the girl. For some reason, this side of him felt as if he already knew her, and she him. _Connected_. In his humanness, Numair felt something else too, something unidentifiable. Whatever it was, he knew that with this heavenly girl, his savior, he was safe. Speaking again and with a gesture of her hand, Numair hopped into her waiting grasp. Even though the shadows and madness still hovered at the back of his mind waiting to reclaim him, for the moment Numair felt _whole_, _safe_, and _at_ _home_.

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_A/N: So what did you think? I'm going to go ahead and explain why I wrote the hawk scene like this. First, I don't think some people realize how profound that moment was, when Daine found Numair in hawk-shape. It's their first impressions of one another, even if they don't know it. Secondly, I know it may have been hard to follow, but I intended it to be that way. Numair is scared, in pain, drugged, and probably a just a little bit angry at Synthia (note my sarcasm). Everything he's experiencing now probably doesn't feel real, and he will most likely forget most of it later. That's why this scene is sort of over exaggerated and embellished. Lastly, I went ahead and made the assumption that when Numair shape changes, he has some hawk-like or animal instincts. That's why I made Daine so compelling to him. He was identifying with her as one of the People at some level. I'm not sure how often I'll update, but expect the next chapter to start off with Numair changing back into human. Anyway, thanks for reading, stay tuned, and review! _


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: WOW. Thank you all who reviewed, favorited, or followed this story. And I believe a large apology is in order. Let's just say a broken ankle, a bout of the flu, AP English 11 Language and Comp, college visits, and life in general got in the way. I sincerely apologize for my lateness! You're kind words and reviews spur me on! I also have a confession to make, which you can probably already guess. I am a sporadic updater! My schedule doesn't allow me to designate a day to write and or publish. So updates, I'm afraid, can come once a month or twice a day. Just keep ears and eyes open! Anyway, I'll try and incorporate a few scenes in this chapter, so hopefully it's just the right length. Anyway, without further ado, here is chapter two! Enjoy and review! _

_Disclaimer: All dialogue and characters you see here belong to Tamora Pierce. I'm just playing with them._

**Chapter 2: First (or Second) Impressions**

Numair wasn't sure how much time passed, and it began to lose meaning for him. It could have been seconds or years. Night and day blurred into one another, leaving him in a foggy twilight. The only times he felt remotely better were when the Glowing Girl and the Woman-With-the-Fiery-Hands tended to him. Their soothing words and gentle touches eased his fevered mind and relieved his physical pain somewhat.

Sometimes, the beautiful Glowing Girl would offer him solids and liquids that tasted of nothing. The few times she did this, he would spit them out or cough them up, panicking. Could it be Sinthya in disguise, forcing him to take more drugs and poisons?

Despite the relief that the Glowing Girl and the Woman-With-the-Fiery-Hands offered, Numair could feel and see the edges of his mind becoming red and green tinged. Even she, the Glowing Girl, could not keep at bay the growing shadows that were slowly consuming him. Numair, having faced death before, knew that he was at the brink. Sooner or later he would enter the Black god's realm.

Soon he began to experience black outs but not of the unconscious kind. He would forget large gaps of the day, and he could feel the Black god inviting him in, smoky clouds swirling around him. At these times however, the Glowing Girl would always seem to pull him back to his sickened reality, with a slight touch or with the honeyed sound of her voice.

Finally, at one moment in time, Numair broke. He felt suddenly as if he was on fire, yet the fires that scorched him became so hot that he was icily cold. The monsters and demons, real and imaginative, cackled in triumph. They greedily attacked his mind, forcing him to relieve his worst memories as well as chaotic nightmares. He was drowning and falling and burning and freezing and suffocating all at once; torn apart from the inside out. Lacking even the strength to scream, Numair fought with what little resolve he had left while slowly resigning himself to his fate. He was a prisoner to death, and there was nothing he could do to free himself.

Suddenly, he felt _her_ voice, stronger than ever. "_Arram Salmalin? Arram—come on. You're too far off."_

Numair saw her, walking towards him, parting the chaos that was his mind. The demons and nightmares and fires and storms and seas of blood could not touch her. She was glowing brighter than ever, the tendrils of her fire extending outward as if she were Mithros himself. Numair almost cried in relief at her saving presence.

"_It's alright, Arram—it's safe—" _Her words seemed to transcend all language, understood by all tongues as she pressed upon him all things that were associated with that word. _Safe_.

Suddenly, the chaos within Numair leeched away. Instead, he was slowly being consumed by the gentle flames of his black sparkling Gift, as well as the copper tendrils of the Glowing Girl's. He then began to feel the vague sensations of a shape change. He was brought to reality by a sharp _snapping_ sound, and he opened his true eyes to see a canvas wall above him, the black and copper flames still slightly dancing behind his lids. A blanket was unceremoniously thrown over him, and Numair turned in his human form to face Alanna, Onua, and a vaguely familiar girl.

He smiled drowsily at them, suddenly feeling very exhausted and very hungry. "Can I have something to eat?"

Sitting next to Onua and pouring himself some tea, Numair tried not to notice the open stare from the girl across from him. Answering Onua's inquiries, Numair scrutinized her from the corner of his eye. She was young, with smoky brown curls and a stubborn chin. Her eyes, however, unsettled him. They were a startling blue-gray, and they were guarded and filled with immense grief. Suddenly, he felt a great sadness for the girl, sympathy tugging at his heart, and he didn't know why.

Still half listening to Onua and sipping his tea, Numair noticed that the girl began to struggle mending some tack. He stood up and crossed the distance between them, lending a hand in assistance.

"Thanks," she whispered, a charming blush rising up her cheeks. Numair noticed that her voice was light yet heavy at the same time.

"You look different." He said in response, still holding the torn strap.

"What?" the girl asked, startled.

"You were a _lot_ bigger," said Numair, a smile splitting his lips. And it was true. He could see the similarities between the Glowing Girl and this girl, which he now knew, thanks to Alanna, were essentially the same person. Even now, Numair could see the many tendrils of copper fire radiating outward from her body, tangling and knotting together. In his sickened and drugged state, she had seemed like a demigoddess, come to free him from the torture he was experiencing. Now, in his human form and restored back to reality, he saw a young girl overflowing with an unusual amount of magic.

Numair saw her shyness abate somewhat, a small smile gracing her face and her blush fading. "Seems to me you was a bit smaller, now I think of it."

The strap fixed, Numair crossed around the simmering fire and returned to his seat by Onua on the log. "I'd be dead if it weren't for you," he said, his eyes earnest and his voice sincere, conveying his gratitude. "You're called Daine?"

She nodded, the end of a smile on her lips, the blush receding from her face. "I'm glad to meet you, Daine. I'm Numair Salmalin."

Suddenly and unknowingly, Daine ventured into a sore and well guarded subject. "I thought it was Arram."

At the sound of the name, Numair tensed slightly, his eyes hardening and flicking towards Onua quickly. He searched her face, looking for the reason why she divulged such a secret. Finding his answer, he turned back to Daine.

"Arram is my boyhood name. I go by Numair now." Numair forced himself to relax. _What can a thirteen year old girl do with a small amount of knowledge from my past?_

Numair watched her as he said this. He saw her visibly recede at his answer, taking the hint. "The honor's mine, Master Numair." _Clever girl. _Thought Numair_, She picks up on tone and body language well_. Then, seeing Daine fit to burst with something, she blurted out, "Why didn't you change back?"

_Curious as well_. _It seems I have another quality to add to the list._ "I was stuck," he said simply, relaxing and smiling slightly at the change in subject.

"_Stuck_?" Daine asked, incredulous, her face taking on the expression of one who is shocked, confused, and a little disgusted at the same time.

Numair's smile widened at her reaction. _She seems like someone I can get along with_.

"When Sinthya caught me, his mage fed me drugs. I panicked, and shape-shifted. I didn't remember I was full of all the drugs it takes to knock out somebody my size."

Onua glared at him sternly across the fire. "You're lucky they didn't kill you."

Numair sighed, acknowledging how close he had come to death this time. _Too close_. "You're right. By the time you found me, I couldn't tell ground from air anymore. The food you offered? I didn't know it was food. Not that it was anything I was able to keep down. It'll be a long time before I take hawk shape again."

Finishing, Numair sipped his tea in the silence, shuddering inwardly at his memory of the ghouls and shadows that had tormented his drugged body. Suddenly, he heard Daine gasp slightly, her stormy gray eyes alighting with revelation.

"_That's_ why you had funny eyes," she breathed.

Numair leaned forward, intrigued. Even now, he could see the copper tendrils radiating off her skin, if he so wished. _My scholar's mind is already making a list of her; why not add another important piece? _

"I wanted to ask you about that. Onua says you got sick, disoriented. I can't understand _how_. She says you don't have the Gift—"

"Odds bobs!" Daine snapped, interrupting Numair and taking him off guard. _She must have a temper_. "I don't see why this _Gift_ is so grand. It comes and goes. You can't do too much at once, and you need all kinds of rules. Its more trouble than it's worth. But whenever I turn 'round, somebody asks if I have it. I'm good with animals—isn't that enough?"

At some point during her rant, Daine had stood up, her fists clenched in anger; body tense. Numair watched as her grief heavy eyes brimmed over with wet tears, streaming silently down her face as she stormed off into the woods. His heart squeezed.

Numair looked at Onua beseechingly. "What did I say?"

Onua sighed as she put down her work, her face contorting with sadness. "Her mother was a hedgewitch. She and Daine's grandfather were killed by raiders in January. She wanted Daine to have the Gift, not just whatever she has with animals. Fool woman kept testing her, as if she thought the girl would develop it overnight. I'd better go after her."

Numair grimaced, his mouth forming a sad line. _Someone her age should not have to know grief_. "No—when she cools off, I'll go." He said, determined to make amends with the strange and compelling girl. "You and Alanna were right. She has real power. Not the Gift though."

Numair entered into his brown study, absentmindedly picking up a pair of twigs and rolling them between his long fingers as he sat by Onua and the fire, his eyes thoughtful. Suddenly, his mind conjured up a hazy and drugged memory of the Glowing Girl, his drugged version of Daine, bright as the stars. _She shows all the indicators of it, but on a much larger scale. Every piece of proof and evidence I have seen and experienced of its existence had been small and fleeting, yet it exists all the same. What makes Daine so different in regards to this magic? _

"It's wild magic, pure and simple." He said, turning back to Onua. "She's brimming with it. I've never seen a human with so much."

"You felt it then," replied Onua, looking up from her work.

Numair smiled, again remembering the comforting yet alien presence that was Daine. "I felt it when I was a bird, half crazy and dying." He said, standing up and stretching.

Onua's face suddenly sobered. "Be careful with her Arram, she's hurting."

"I will," he said somberly, "Use Numair, will you? I know you trust Daine, but there's no telling who might overhear. I still have enemies in Carthak who'd like to know where I am."

Onua's face pinched in worry. "You're right—Numair."

Trying to lighten the mood, a wide smile split Numair's lips. "Come on—what great sorcerer has a name like Arram Draper? I have to have a name to fit my calling, don't you think?"

Onua gave Numair an amused look. "All mages are players at heart, I swear. Can't do magic unless you have all kinds of robes and props and a big audience to cheer you."

Smiling to himself and turning on his heel as Onua good naturedly waved him away; Numair went into the woods in search of Daine.

_A/N: So what did you think? Questions, comments, and critiques are all very welcome! Again, I apologize for the delay in updating, but I hope this did the wait justice. I just now realized how long the hawk part was. I enjoyed writing that way too much, for some reason. I also like writing Numair making lists of Daine. I feel like someone of his intellect would do that a lot. Sorry for leaving it on a sort of cliffy, but you all should know what happens next, considering you have read the books. Expect next chapter to pick up the pace! Keep your eyes and ears open and stay tuned! And please review!_


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